What REALLY Happened
by Nocturniquette
Summary: This has got to be the crackiest thing I have ever wrote. Or how Altair and company succeeded in getting the Apple in the ruins of Solomon's Temple and why Robert De Sable really attacked Masyaf. Slight AU. WARNINGS: SLASH AHEAD! Altair/Malik and one sided Robert/Altair.


Disclaim Her: I own nothing. I just play with the toys other people forget to put away. (wink wink)

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The Frenchman frowned as he surveyed the ruins of Solomon's Temple. Where were the Assassins? Robert checked his schedule and confirmed the time. So why were they late?

He turned around at a small sound and smiled when he saw three white-hooded figures drop down from a hidden alcove close to the ceiling.

His smile quickly turned into a frown when all three Assassins stumbled in three different directions. What in God's Holy Na—he suddenly heard a giggle.

He glanced at his soldiers. They all gave him scared looks back. Good, none of them had made that terrible sound. Giggling was against his religion.

Then abruptly, the center Assassin, the one who was taller than his companions, grabbed the one on the right and began kissing him.

Dead silence filled the chamber. Robert felt his mouth open and close several times, no sound coming out.

What in the nine depths of hell-

"You're not Malik," the bigger assassin slurred in a stage whisper.

Robert could feel a headache coming on.

Dear God in Heaven.

And here he thought something _grand_ would happen…like oh I don't know, sword fight to the death for the Treasure maybe?

He watched as the middle assassin swirled around, white clothing moving about him like an angry storm, showing taut sexy legs-and Robert was so not going there.

"Malik kish me." The center commanded. "Malik" grinned drunkenly and lowered his hood for all of the Templars to see.

Several of Robert's men switched their weight from one foot to the other, and it wasn't just because they were eager to kill something.

The one on the right, the real Malik, lowered his hood as well.

More shifting followed.

Robert ignored his men. He was too insanely curious to see what the last one looked like.

He was not disappointed.

The middle one lowered his hood, and finally a rookie Templar shouted: "Can we take them with us!?" because he couldn't stand the amount of sexy so close to him either.

Robert didn't answer his subordinate. He was too transfixed as he watched the center assassin.

Black hair stuck up in small spikes. A long and thin face that was tanned and was marked with a curious scar on the upper lip. Silver eyes and a plump mouth that was set into a handsome face like a sculptures masterpiece.

Oh. Wow. Hot damn, these assassins were ho-Robert was not going there damn it!

Kadar giggled at the French Templar. This was not a drunken giggle—oh no. This giggle was sinister in nature and downright scary. It was the patented Matchmaker Giggle ™.

Robert felt it then. Doom was calling his name. He could practically taste it—

"You can join in if you want." Kadar grinned at Robert, before plopping down on the stone floor (ow) and pulling out a tiny black book full of blank pages.

Robert raised an eyebrow and asked what it was for. "I'm taking notesh. Thish isn't my firsht book ya know." Kadar replied, writing in the book with intense concentration while looking at the other two assassins.

The French Templar decided right then and there that he was going to go to Masyaf and find these "books."

"Uh…sir?" came the rookie Templar's voice. "What Frederick?" "Are we…uh…going to get the uh…treasure?"

Robert turned around and gave the rookie a blank look. "Which treasure?" he asked curiously. Without waiting for a response, the Grand Marshal stalked over to Altair and Malik, who were still kissing, and were somehow now fully undressed. The only thing they had on were their dark grey leggings which didn't exactly hide anything.

Robert stopped. His mouth went dry as he continued to watch.

This was wrong. Very wrong. But somehow, it didn't matter at the moment.

…He was beginning to regret not having invaded Masyaf yet. If every assassin they had looked like this…then damn it all! He had missed out on some good stuff!

Robert was now very close to the two…occupied killers.

He could see the bigger assassin better now. His eyes weren't a dark silver like he had originally thought; they were a beautiful mixture of deep forest green and blackened silver; like the color of tree leaves in moonlight.

He noticed that the assassin's skin was lighter than his companions, but dark enough to still be considered Arabian, indicating mixed genetics.

He was definitely exotic. Robert liked that. A lot.

"Uh, sir?" Robert rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "What do you want now, Frederick?" "Sir…I was wondering when we were…uh…"

Robert turned around and raised an eyebrow at the rookie's abrupt trail off of his sentence.

"Spit it out soldier!" Robert barked, clearly irritated. He wanted to get back to watching the make out session.

"Iwaswonderingwhenweregoingto leavesir." Frederick said impossibly fast.

The Frenchman grabbed the bridge of his nose and **squeezed**. His headache, which had all but disappeared in the face of the assassin's happy fun time, had now come back full force.

"Despite knowing over five languages Freddie, I cannot decipher gibberish." He stated, now in full blown annoyment mode.

He just wanted to watch the show damn it all to hell! Why was he constantly being interrupted!

Freddie repeated his question. Nobody noticed Kadar reaching into Robert's pocket and casually retrieving the Piece of Eden.

They also weren't paying attention when Kadar gave the Apple to Malik who hid it in his outfit.

Altair noticed the sleight of hand and smirked into the kiss.

He suddenly deepened said kiss, causing Malik to moan into his mouth.

The Frenchman whirled around, blue eyes dilated and Altair's smirk grew. It quickly turned into a surprised yelp when he felt Malik's hand brush a sensitive part of his anatomy.

He groaned loudly and then pulled away, utterly breathless.

"Mmm I don't wanna stop…" "But we can't finish here." Malik finished for him. Altair smiled. "You know me so well…" he said and nuzzled Malik's throat.

Malik turned his head and winked at his younger brother who grinned and reached into his pocket.

He took out three smoke bombs and tossed them onto the ground, causing them to explode and to obscure the Templar's vision.

Obscenities were shouted, swords were drawn, and orders were given. It didn't matter. The three Assassins were long gone by the time the smoke cleared.

Robert De Sable stared uncomprehendingly around him.

The assassins were gone. The show was gone. He checked his pockets on a whim.

Son of a bitch! (Sorry Mother.) The Apple was gone.

He'd been duped. _He had been duped._ This was not supposed to happen!

"Sir…shouldn't we go after them?" Freddie asked.

Robert shook his head as mental images assaulted him.

"Why not? I thought our orders were to take the Treasure back to the Grand Cleric?" the rookie asked confused.

Robert sighed. "Do you wanna explain to the Grand Cleric the reason why we don't have the Apple?" he asked pointedly.

Freddie paled.

He could well imagine the Cleric's reaction to today's events.

"So…what're we gonna do now?" he asked both curious and really not wanting to find out.

Robert gave him a wicked grin.

"We're going to Masyaf!" He declared and all of his men cheered happily.

This was the real reason why Robert De Sable, Grand Marshal of the Templar Order, really invaded the assassin fortress.

**THE END. **


End file.
